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“Oh, please, Mrs. Lancaster,” Billy coaxed. “The circus won’t be any circus at all without Buzz. We’re to have him for a side show after the performance. We’ve advertised him,” Billy pleaded well. “Poor little chaps! They’ve been talking circus for a month.” “Moses, yer as useless as the hole in a doughnut; here quick gimme yer handkerchief till I mop up yer Par.”.

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S Billy Bennett wheeled around the corner he saw his mother in the doorway. Also he saw Jean Hammond across the street speaking with Bess Carter,—the Queen of Sheba, the children called her, she was so large and dark and handsome, and had such a royal way, like a sure ’nough queen, one said. Though why children who had never been out of Vine County should know so much about queens no one thought to ask. “Did Clarence show you the sights of the city this morning?” asked Mr. Crump, trying to repress a smile. Moses’ intuition regarding St. Elmo’s retreat proved to be correct, and it was a sadly dejected countenance on which he gazed when he looked into the cave. Tears, dirt, and the juice of Saskatoon berries mingled on the fair sleeping face of the child, until he seemed to be the very Cree Indian he had so often personated in his play. His long curls were tangled and matted with small twigs. His diminutive brown velvet coat displayed a large rent in the elbow through which oozed a pathetic-looking suppuration of pink and white checked shirt. “Well, he ain’t dead; he’s alive and bully, with a wad that bulges. I’m going to take you to him.”.